


Even beyond death

by Otabek_Altin



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, vr au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otabek_Altin/pseuds/Otabek_Altin
Summary: He really thought he'd reach his dear old dream as he hacked up the blood flooding in his throat. The stars were so pretty and worth it, last moment of peace after all the pain. Hoping that all will be well in the end.But then he felt his body fall and odd numbness took over the dying veins.---In which doing your part doesn't end the hunt for truth, yet not in afterlife.





	1. Woke Up Dead

He really thought he'd reach his dear old dream as he hacked up the blood flooding in his throat. The stars were so pretty and worth it, last moment of peace after all the pain. Hoping that all will be well in the end.

But then he felt his body fall and odd numbness took over the dying veins.   
  


* * *

 

...

......

.........

_'What in the--'_

A conscious thought. 

He isn't supposed to be thinking.

Or breathing. 

His limbs felt light but mobile enough to move around, hands finding some kind of a caved cover. 

Purple eyes slowly blinked awake, seeing unfamiliar faces hovering over the cover. He could see his own warm breath fogging the clear wall, the voices all quick and and hard to discern. 

Straining his ears to hear properly, everything was becoming clear to him.

_"--id you gas the pod at the right moment?"_

_"I'm sure I did. We can move him to the infirmary soon."_

_"Alright, that's good. Great work folks, another fantastic episode pulled off! After extracting this one, everyone will go back to monitor the security panels."_

_"...what about the other one? The Supreme Leader?"_

A long pause. They're talking about Ouma? What the hell is going on?

_"We'll worry about that later. He's likely in comatose and trying to do jackshit about it will only repeat the dead season."_

It made him want to demand for answers, but lethargy took over as his right hand tried to reach for the clear wall once more.

...

......

.........

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a hospital bed. 

Momota Kaito was pretty sure he died while being executed. Not that he was killed by such, but his illness took his life during.

He looked at his own hands, still disbelieving that he was saved. Or what he heard earlier. Ouma being comatose was the biggest bullshit he has ever heard. He saw the press crushing the dying boy with his own two eyes, and he was the very cause of it. 

It didn't made sense. 

None of what's happening ever made sense. 

But if he was saved, did that mean--

Knock, knock, knock.

"...who is it?" Surprised with his own gruff voice, his throat felt parched and itching for a cough. 

"Well, you won't believe it until you see it for yourself so..." 

Momota paled at the recognition. It can't be real...

The door creaked open, revealing Amami Rantaro in a hospital gown, head bandaged right where the supposed wound from shot put broke his skull. 

"This is going to be a debriefing, but unofficially since I don't really trust TDR staff to go crazy on you. Also, I brought friends along too, so it would be easier to explain." 

Head throbbing with so much confusion, it only worsened as he saw Akamatsu, Hoshi, Toujo, Yonaga, Chabashira, Shinguuji, Iruma and Gokuhara enter the room. 

 

All his dead classmates are _alive and breathing_ in front of him. 

 

_'What the hell is going on?!?'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings from Konrad of Oumota Discord. I finally got the guts to post my first fic. Technically. 
> 
> I know this is a short start but it will be easier for me to write this way, I guess. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.


	2. Not a Pandora's box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like fumbling in the dark, Kaito tries his best to understand. He doesn't like what he finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love everyone in Oumota Server and Himiko's Magic World <3 Also Rev_eerie, here you go buddy! All the weeks spent telling me to smack the button has finally paid off...but not really I just get easily distracted to write this chapter ( that and i suck at proofreading my own shit ). I finally got to post it. Yay!
> 
> Thank you for SnowyDawn17, Comatose_Overdose, KichyRi and again, Rev_eerie for proofreading. I keep dying without y'all.
> 
> Meanwhile...I really tried to compensate for the first chapter. It was so damn short, yeah. So here you go, folks.

Sometimes, one's grasp of reality is lost when all logic has been upended.

And that's what he's facing, right now. Almost everyone who was murdered or executed is here, alive, right in front of him. Including him. Almost being the key word here: Ouma's nowhere to be seen.

Taking a deep breath, Momota sits up slowly. He can feel his own heart beating underneath the hospital gown he’s wearing.

_‘Disorienting.’_

"I take it your memories of...your last moments... are still intact. But how much do you remember?" Amami started, sitting down on the stool beside the bed. 

But Momota's eyes remained fixed on the rest of the group, gaze slightly hazy and body frozen in shock.

He focuses on Akamatsu first, she is wearing a neck brace. His eye dart over to Toujo, confined wheelchair with both neck brace and a back brace. Chabashira, Yonaga and Iruma wore neck braces as well while Shinguuji...he saw him get fried alive in oil. His face, arms and body are wrapped in bandages, a familiar sight, but he was also confined in wheelchair. Gokuhara is behind him and Hoshi without his hat was unfamiliar at first glance. 

His head throbs again. The pain feels real, his mattress feels real, everything… He feels his chest constrict.

"Momota-kun! Please calm down!" Amami places a hand on his shoulder making him flinch away.

'It really doesn't make sense...this can't be real.'  He tells himself, stubbornly holding on to the recent memories of dying in space.

But if his own existence is proof in itself, he can't deny it.

"We died...how the fuck are we alive? Is this the afterlife?"  Amami shakes his head. 

“No, we’re all alive in the  **real world**. Ouma-kun, however, is still **comatose**.” 

Momota’s mind was in denial, outright refusing to accept Amami’s words as the truth. 

“...What did you just say?!?”

He saw it with his own two eyes as the supreme leader was crushed by the hydraulic press. 

A memory like that cannot be faked, it’s too bizarre. 

“Snap out of it, goatee dumbass! Listen to what pretty boy has to say first then you can think about it with your tiny brain later!” Iruma jabs at him, to everyone’s surprise. 

Akamatsu groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Iruma-san, we appreciate the sentiment but Momota-kun just woke up…” 

Their voices are all too real to be an illusion.

“Gonta is glad,” The entomologist sobs, apparently having been holding back. “So glad Momota-kun is okay...” 

Another painful throb.

“Everyone, please tone it down…you’re overwhelming him.” Toujo chides, to which Hoshi snorts. 

Momota needs answers. 

He hears Angie cheering while Chabashira agrees with the maid, but in his attempts to focus on what's actually being said, he realizes the pain in his head has gotten worse. His hands tremble as he grips his hair tightly. 

His vision swims and mixed shouts are heard as he blacks out.

…

……

………

 

Waking up confused seems like something Momota will have to get used to.

He finds himself lying down again; this time only Amami, Shinguuji and Iruma are in his room, seemingly having a serious conversation. Seeing them talking together is an odd sight, never mind the fact that they shouldn't be alive to talk at all.

The anthropologist is the first one to notice him. “Oh, looks like he’s waking up.”

“Fucking finally!” Iruma tosses a pack of lozenges at him. “That’s for your throat. Suck on em ‘til you feel better, got it?” 

“Are you feeling alright now, Momota-kun?” At the question, he realizes he probably will need those lozenges. His throat fucking hurts from all of his coughing and choking before he… He shakes head.

“I don’t know. How...How much time has passed since I…?” He asks, voice still rough.

“About a day, which is saying something.” Amami answers.

Momota moves to sit up again but a firm hand presses him back onto the bed. 

“Don’t you fucking dare move, dumbass. Lie down and take a fucking rest!” Iruma’s words are harsh, but he can see there is concern behind them.

Shinguuji chuckles as he chimes in, “I’d have to agree. Resting would make you feel much better.”

“Now that everything is settled…I’m going to repeat this again,” Amami starts. “How much do you remember, Momota-kun?” 

That, the astronaut can answer in a beat. “Everything.”

“Please define everything.”

He doesn't understand these questions. What was the point of that?

Mystified, he replies anyway, “I remember my family, my exam, the killing game…everything until I died. Why would I forget that?”

Amami and Shinguuji share a look. Momota knows he just woke up yet again but he’ll have to focus more even if there’s something he can’t understand yet.

“This is only my assessment but I deem that only his illness affected his body in the killing game. The  **psychogenic placebo**  was a hard blow, yes, but Momota-kun does have a mind of steel. It’s amazing to see.” The anthropologist says, more to Amami than Momota.

“Wait,  _saiko_ -what?”

“Shinguuji-kun meant to say that hypothetically you only dealt with the lung cancer. Your mental fortitude is strong enough that you remember that much.” It's as if all their responses are coded but maybe it's just himself.

“I’m just getting more and more confused here.” Momota complains, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head as he listened.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the explanation soon enough. For the meantime…I guess the effect of Flashback Lights has yet to wear off on you. This is going to be the ninth time I’m explaining this, but even I still can’t reconcile with what I’m about to say.” A heavy sigh, and it makes the astronaut notice how there are black circles around Amami’s eyes. His fatigue is showing clearly. “We…participated in a broadcasted killing game show called  **Danganronpa**. It’s being shown to the world, everything that is happening in the killing game.” 

_‘What the fuck.’_

He expected a group of people, a small scale of specific group of people enjoying the killing game for their amusement but _the whole world?_ His head pounds with the information he just obtained, matched with chaos of questions and strong emotions that he needed to unravel everything he can list off of his head as soon as possible.  
  
Amami continued, “So to say that what Ouma speculated and told you is true is an understatement. The truth is far worse than we expected.”

Wrapping his head around the concept of living after death...it's still bizarre for him. “But how the hell are we alive?!? Didn’t we die?”

“Oi space idiot, you do remember what happened in  **Neo-World Program**  don’tcha? The machine capable of putting our consciousnesses in a virtual reality and letting us live there? That's what happened.” Iruma pauses for a moment only to huff, her expression dropping. “Look, I’m conflicted too, knowing this bullshit exists and is really happening but what can we fucking do? It’d be like, taking for granted the fact that we’re alive instead of being hopelessly dead in that shithole.”

“Iruma-san is right. Also, as you can see, we have predicaments that need to be acknowledged. Namely, all of our ‘injuries’ and physical limitations.” Amami goes on.

“Hold on.” He demands, working on the right words to say. “If it happened in Neo-World Program, shouldn’t we be okay in real life? Wherever we are now?” 

Shinguuji took the liberty of explaining and answered, “Not exactly, Momota-kun. Our minds forcibly believed that the simulation was reality. All experiences, senses and even the pain. . . They were all tied to our brain, hence we are hardly accepting the logic we’re facing right now. Our minds want to reject the truth because they were tricked into believing a lie. And we are suffering the physical consequences for it. People who have had limbs amputated often suffer from a condition caused by the brain being unable to comprehend the loss. It’s called  **phantom pain**. However, our situation is reversed. So, one can consider that we’re experiencing  **psychogenic pain** , which has ties to the  **placebo effect**. Not to say that what happened to us isn’t real but...”

The astronaut can’t decide if what they have all said is true.  

But that’s where the matter lies; everything that had been murky was steadily becoming crystal clear, should he believe them. Everything made much more sense. But there was something else he can’t comprehend. 

“What did you mean when you said…Ouma is comatose?” 

“Well...” Amami paused, choosing his words carefully. “Do you remember waking up in a pod?” 

Momota could only nod in reply.

“Those pods are part of the Neo-World Program. To get a participant out, one must be dying in the killing game. The process is monitored and strictly timed so that when the participants die, the pod is gassed with pain killers. It lessens the immediate shock but in the aftermath, as you can see, we can still feel the pain because the effect is momentary.”

“I’m only hearing this now, Amami-kun, but what does it have to do with Ouma-kun’s sta—oh.” Realization etched on the anthropologist’s face. 

That doesn’t sound like good news.

Even Iruma’s face scrunches up in worry. “Fucking shit. Lying little bastard had it rough.” She muttered under her breath.

“To put it simply, since  **Team Danganronpa staff**  was blinded by the EMP bomb that Ouma-kun used, they have no idea what happened in the hangar. Ouma-kun’s death wasn’t timed so his pod was never gassed.” 

"The side effects are pretty harsh. Our brains accepted the virtual reality as, well, reality. Without the painkillers, your brain believes you experienced real, fatal damage. Though he doesn't know it, he pulled off a very dangerous and clever plan... my respect for Ouma-kun has increased." Shinguuji continued. 

“Wait, how did you know about the plan?” He never told anyone except the remaining students before he died.

“We watch everything from the makeshift theatre. It’s located on the third floor.” Amami states, expression turning serious. “Like I said earlier, Danganronpa is  **a broadcasted killing game**. We as participants have the right to know what’s happening.” 

Momota clenched his fist, anger flooding his veins full fore. “That’s another thing I want to talk about. Why the fuck would people watch a bunch of high school students kill each other?!? This is bullshit!” 

“Calm down, Momota-kun or you’ll stress yourself--” 

“Easy for you to say, Amami! To say we’re  **participants** …that’s implying that we joined of our own free will! This has to be a sick joke!” 

“It’s not impossible. The evidence we have right now points to that, but we can’t take away the other possibilities.”  

“Here we go again…you two aren’t fucking helping.”

A loud buzz rang in the room. Momota looked at the ceiling, finding a speaker at the corner above the door. An announcement followed;

_”All deceased participants please proceed to the mess hall for dinner. That includes the astronaut. Therapy session will commence after dinner.”_

Iruma clicks her tongue, and grabs the phone on the bedside table, looking pissed as she speaks into the receiver. “Fucking give us ten more minutes to settle this shit, Iidabashi.” 

_‘Iidabashi? Wasn’t that…Kiibo’s father? His creator?’_

_“No can do, Iruma-san,”_  the bored tone replies.  _“Executive’s orders, I’m afraid.”_

“Come on, old man! We need a bit more damn time!” 

The line drops and he can’t help but sympathize with the inventor’s frustration.

"Our investigation is getting more difficult, Amami-kun." Shinguuji quips. "We need more information from Iidabashi-san, but I feel like we won't get any more if we don't do something about it."  
  
Whatever Amami had said to that was drowned out by Momota’s own thoughts.

 _'That's it,'_ he tells himself, _'I'm not staying idle in this room.'_

He immediately gets up from his bed only to collapse as soon as he puts his weight on his feet.  He attempted to catch himself but failed. Amami Is quick to assist him, supporting his back and lifting him by the pits of his arms.

"Dammit space virgin! Stop being a stubborn jackass and stay in place! Do you want me to handcuff you to bed?!?" She sighs exasperatedly as she rolls the wheelchair over.  
  
"I can do it by myself!" He demands, fighting off Amami’s attempts.

“Uh, fuck no you can’t, dumbass! Don’t be a stubborn dickhead, Astroschmuck!” Iruma bites back.

Amami shakes his head. “Look, Momota-kun. We’re all in pain, we’re all having trouble right now. There’s no shame in needing some help. It’s why we’re here.” The astronaut attempts to fight him off some more, batting his hands away but Amami has no intention of letting him go, only making his hold firmer.

He loathes feeling helpless and he never let himself feel like a burden, even in this simulation…whatever it is. He shuts his eyes tightly, head spinning once more with the onslaught of lethargy and it leaves him no choice but to give in.

Momota eventually relents, finally letting Amami guide him into the wheelchair.  
  
_‘Just when I thought everything is over...it feels like we went back right into the start.’_ He thinks as they all go out of his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so fun fact: this draft sat in my pc for weeks pls send help i am dying because another editing for the next chapter is going to be hell


	3. To Swallow the Ire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain is a motive for all kinds of things. Sometimes in the mind, sometime in the veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Konrad here again. I couldn't believe I'm finally updating again. So much happened these past few months and it drained me so much. 
> 
> I was...extremely tired. 
> 
> But I decided that I'm still going for this, even if it takes me so much time to write this. I was really ecstatic when my betas were so excited to see how this story would unfold, by just showing them my outlines and plans. I don't know if anybody else would be the same, but this fic is self indulgent for the most part. I love writing, and I put in so much thought for this. I thank the people who kept supporting me ( even if I'm a walking cursed shitpost ) I love you all guys!
> 
> Special shoutout to the Nya Fanclub and RoS babies...bless each and every one of you.

The urge to run away from the appalling predicament they’re in grows stronger as he mulls over the things all three of them mentioned earlier. His body was tricked into thinking he was sick, as were the 'victims' upon their death and their ‘killers' upon their executions. Who would have thought that this was just fictional entertainment for all of humanity?

And then, as they go further down the hall, Momota’s awareness heightens as he sees people he doesn’t recognize walking along the corridor. Looking at him with crazed eyes, as if he was a spectacle. The way they all act disturbs him. Enthusiastic yet nothing but empty husks. Empty, empty, _empty._

On the other hand, Momota feels uneasy around Shinguuji, but he thinks about what could have possibly happened for Amami to be able to stand being around the anthropologist, because if he had truly watched the trials he should know what Shinguuji could potentially do.

 _‘Granted that the execution was unforgiving to him, but how much of that is true?’_ he thinks warily, mind replaying the anthropologist’s death. The ‘melting ghost’ projected after his death was a disturbing yet mocking display. He shudders at the memory, shaking his head to will it away.

There’s a familiar itch in his throat, though compared to how it felt to cough up blood... His throat is dry which makes coughing even harder for him. His chest hurts, and this…this must be the aftermath that Shinguuji explained earlier. Momota wants to retch yet he can’t.

The inventor sighs exasperatedly. “I told you to take the lozenges, didn’t I? Here, pop this in your mouth, virgin.” He knows if he refuses, she will only nag him more so he takes one from the bag and does as she said. How she remains so...like her usual self, he doesn't know. She knows more about this situation than he does. Momota doesn't know what to make of her and the anthropologist' cooperation.

"Amami-kun, you're looking rather worn out." Shinguuji quips. He can more or less agree with that; with learning all of this right after he 'died' and all of the things he's handling right now, Momota can only imagine how hard it was for him to cope and talk to the people managing the hellish show.

"Oh, am I?" Amami gives them a tired smile. "I guess I must be quite a sight, then." He doesn't even bother to hide his exhaustion, slightly slumping forward onto Momota's wheelchair for support.

“Don't give me that shit, I'm tired as fuck too! Like who the hell wouldn’t be? That Atua-obsessed bitch never shuts up!” Iruma complains loudly. Supposing that the artist never accepted her death, it isn't a surprise she would make a ruckus.

Amami turned his gaze to Momota. “I figure you want to know what Iruma-san is talking about. It’s a long story but we’ll get there.” He scratched the back of his head, as if they’re only discussing the weather. The astronaut knew better.

“Seems like there’s a whole bunch of long stories I need to hear about.” Momota grumbles. He glances at the crowd they pass by and asks, “Who were those people anyway?”

An exasperated sigh escaped Amami’s lips. “The staff I mentioned earlier. They run the simulation and broadcasting.” His serious tone tells a lot more than he could have expected.

Momota blanches at that. “Do I even want to understand why they’re doing this? This is so sick.”

“We all share that sentiment, Momota-kun." Shinguuji succinctly replies. The astronaut wanted to say something more to that but he kept his mouth shut.

When they reached the cafeteria, it isn't just their friends that are waiting but several members of the staff. The staff speaks to them, bombarding them with invasive questions, but Amami says that what goes on in therapy is none of their business, giving a fake smile. His smile doesn't negate the menacing vibe he's giving off. The staff back off and leave them to their meal for the meantime.

"Momota-kun!" A familiar voice greets him. When Momota turned to look at who it was, he found that it was no other than Akamatsu. "How are you doing?" It's been so long since Momota last saw her, and that train of thought only leads to bad memories. She feels like a bright apparition, but the moment she places her hand on his arm...he's certain that she's _real._

"Fine, as much as I think I can be, Akamatsu." He replies, smiling. "How's your....neck doing?"

"The doctor says I might be able to remove my brace the next few days." She says, but it seems as if she's holding back something. "But I don't want to take it off yet. It feels secure, you know?" He can only guess why she would want to keep it, and he’d rather not dwell on it. "How about you, Momota-kun? Is your illness acting up?"

It's easy to forget that the whole class knows about his...sickness, but he didn’t bother hiding it anymore. Momota is alive, and that's what matters the most. "I'm alright. No need to worry about me,” he assures the pianist. Iruma shakes her head, likely having seen through the lie and pushes Shinguuji's wheelchair away from them.

That’s when he hears a familiar deep voice saying, "I'm surprised about how you cooperated with Ouma, though I must admit that I understand due to the circumstances." It’s Hoshi, without his cat beanie.

Momota immediately responds, "There wasn't any time for another plan and if I.....if we hadn't given Ouma's plan a shot we wouldn't have been able to do anything at all. The theories Ouma gave me weren't what I expected, but they made sense."

He sits beside Hoshi at the table while Amami is sitting across from him. Shinguuji is beside Amami, allowing him to feed him. The person who served their food still creeps him out but the smell of food wafting in his nose distracts him enough. As they all start eating in silence, Hoshi speaks up again. "Game or not, I feel useless for letting myself be killed without doing anything to help find the mastermind."

"You didn't know, Hoshi. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"Not going to immediately stop me." The astronaut was about to retort when the smaller man continues, "I'm working on it, though." Momota didn't fight the urge to smile at that. He notices, however, that Toujou is refusing to eat while Gokuhara is insisting she at least take a few bites, Iruma is glaring at Yonaga, and Chabashira is beside Akamatsu and picking at her food impatiently. There's a lot of things he isn't aware of, but he'll find out soon enough.  
  
A therapist who introduces himself to Momota as Ogata Kouki announces that it's time for the group therapy session. He waits for everyone to finish but Yonaga is enthusiastic about starting the blame game again and leaves the mess hall first.  
  
Hoshi says, "Recovery is a long way off with everything the way it is." Amami doesn't disagree, but he tries to lighten the mood a bit.

* * *

  
“You should take it easy when moving about, Momota-kun. Recovery may take time but there's no rush." Akamatsu says to him as he leaves the cafeteria. They all leave in separate groups: Momota, Amami, Shinguuji and Iruma as one, Hoshi, Akamatsu and Chabashira as another. Gonta and Kirumi leave together too. In the therapy room, they placed the seats in a semi-circle and Ogata is about to explain when Yonaga interrupts.

"Ogata-san is being repetitive. We should start immediately!" The small man recoils and tries to pacify the artist but Iruma jabs, "Oi Yonaga! Stop acting like a spoiled bitch!"

The inventor was met with a menacing stare, something they have all seen in class trials, as if to threaten them all. “You think you've got right to say anything when you tried to kill everyone for your selfish desire to get out?''  
  
Akamatsu intervenes, “Just because you're right doesn't mean you get to act all righteous among us!” Her glare was ineffective before the artist, dismissing her words with a wave of hand. She seemed to ponder for a while, then stared back with malice. "Was it right to start the killing game then?”

Amami was about to say something when Momota slams his fist on the table. “Stop it, Yonaga! Yes, we’re in group therapy to talk things out—but we won’t be able to if you can’t get even get a hold of your own emotions long enough to even listen!”

"But you can't deny that I'm right! No one should defy me because Atua was right all along!" The artist makes a grand gesture, eyes conveying that she had fallen into despair. "I want to hear Atua speak to me again but now I can’t, and it's everyone's fault for not cooperating with the Student Council!"  
  
Hoshi signals at Gokuhara to restrain her but she punches him in the abdomen, making him fall into a shock and collapse; Angie had struck where the bug had stabbed him. Chabashira had enough—she slapped Yonaga hard, knocking her out. “Yumeno-san liked you…” Chabashira muttered under her breath, expression full of disdain as she pulled back her hand.

Everyone save for Momota rushes to Gokuhara's side while Ogata calls for help. Momota wants to get up from his wheelchair and help but is stopped by Iruma. "Stay in your place. We…can handle it." It was the first time he’d seen the inventor wear a serious expression. Momota felt left out and lost, but Amami promised to explain things to him eventually.  
  
Things had mellowed down when the introduction started and the physical therapy went on, but the previous incident still left a tense atmosphere. Everyone remained reasonably worried for the entomologist, but what surprised him is how cooperative all of them had gotten under the mysterious boy’s leadership. After the therapy, Toujou approached Amami and pleaded. "I want to be helpful. Please, let me help."

Amami shook his head. “You should focus on your physical therapy because you’re one of the people who had the worst trauma. If you can follow that then you'll get orders just like everyone else. Do you understand what I mean? This is for your wellbeing.” It was almost suspicious, how gentle his tone was towards the maid. Toujou looked conflicted for a while, almost wanting to protest but all she could do is comply.

“If anyone else have other concerns or worries, please don’t be afraid to ask for help and talk to me.” Amami addressed to everyone, and right then Momota knew, something else is going on. He just has to know what it is.

* * *

    
The stout doctor who introduced himself as Matsuda Yasuke showed clear distress about the current matters, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked up from the papers he was reading, sending a stern look towards all of them. "You're all stubborn brats, but I'll give these testimonies the benefit of the doubt and accept that this was all just an accident.”

“I want all of you to know how the much the simulation affected all of you, and so to prove that, your psychological trauma and how it extends to your physical condition will be demonstrated. We need to emphasize how serious each and every psychogenic pain you are all experiencing. This," the doctor goes on as he shows a monitor that seems to measure wavelengths on the screen, "is an EEG Machine which will show the activities in your brain. The one we will focus on is the somatosensory results. This particular part of the sensory nervous system has everything to do with our sense of touch. Does anyone want to volunteer?"

Amami raised his hand. "May I?"

"I disagree, Amami-kun. I'll do it." Shinguuji declines. ”Your severe head trauma is a risk for this test. Reliving the brain damage would only worsen your condition."

The pianist stepped forward, almost predictable as she says,"How about--"

"Denied, Akamatsu-san. Even the slightest reenactment of the strangulation could lead to breathing difficulty due to stress. This applies to Iruma-san as well."

"Hey, what the hell you creep! You were cooked alive in a goddamn pot!"

"We're listing off the riskiest injuries during the simulation that might lead to an immediate death."

"Let the degenerate take the stupid experiment if he wants to! No one's forcing him to do this anyway." Chabashira bitterly added. As much as some of them wanted to argue, the anthropologist did have a strong point.

The doctors begin to perform the test, putting Shinguuji in place for the experiment. Discomfort evident on his face, nurses had to keep asking if he wants to go through this. It was weird for everyone to see his face again; short of effeminate softness and redness of lips, as if the traces of his ‘sister’ was never present to begin with.

The last warning was given but the anthropologist refused to back out, hardening his expression to steel himself. His hands are tied and without warning, his bound hands were submerged in hot water. Immediately, the sensation makes him remember his execution so vividly that he starts to scream. Everyone can see him through the glass of the laboratory, screaming and struggling violently until he was eventually sedated.

 

* * *

   
Conscious Students: 07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just learned tonight that two of my pet cats passed away today so I...I'm really going to miss you two, Brownie and Punge.

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings from Konrad of Oumota Discord. I finally got the guts to post my first fic. Technically. 
> 
> I know this is a short start but it will be easier for me to write this way, I guess. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.


End file.
